


Adventures with a sleeping Blast Off

by naboru



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bromance, Combati-fluff, Comedy, Gen, Implied Disturbing Experiences, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:05:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blast Off has a good sound sleep which leads to some memorable moments in one way or the other.</p><p>The first chapter is Vortex’ turn. / implied smut, Combati-fluff, implied disturbing images & experiences / Vortex, Blast Off, implied Blast Off/Vortex / PG</p><p>Second chapter is Brawl / Combati-fluff, bromance / Brawl, Blast Off / PG</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vortex

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Adventures with a sleeping Blast Off  
>  **Continuity:** G1 [part of [Ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty)'s [Dysfunction AU](http://community.livejournal.com/lost_carcosa/19574.html#cutid1)]  
>  **Warnings:** implied smut, Combati-fluff, implied disturbing images  & experiences  
>  **Characters/Pairings:** Vortex, Blast Off, implied Blast Off/Vortex  
>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Summary:** Blast Off has a good sound sleep which leads to some memorable moments in one way or the other. This time, it’s Vortex’ turn.  
>  **Disclaimer:** Sadly, I own nothing.  
>  **Beta:** [Ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty), thank you! :D
> 
>  **Note:** This will be a series of flashfic/drabbles whenever I get an idea. I hope you’ll enjoy it. :)

Vortex sighed, and shivered one last time at a warm surge of pleasure, then the intensity of the connection ebbed.

Blast Off was in recharge, the bond told Vortex so. But it was completely okay, because Blast Off had been tired, and drunk, and he was now lying next to Vortex, an arm around the ‘copter.

Vortex was tired as well, grinning lazily behind his battle mask. Slowly, so as not to wake the shuttle, he raised his hand, and traced his fingers over the shuttle’s upper arm, over the strong plating. Drawing circles there where the small winglets had been ages ago, before the Detention Center.  
He missed them.

Vortex had never mentioned it, because he knew Blast Off missed them as well. 

Carefully, he shuffled a little closer to the warm frame, and offlined his optics. The pleasant energy stream was now only an underlying series of systems pings and touch-up synchronisation from the gestalt bond.

Vortex still didn’t see a reason to disconnect them.

He rather liked it, and there were only few times when he had the chance to stay connected to Blast Off for a while. It gave him the opportunity to explore the other’s frame – if he was in recharge – or get a glimpse of the past when random memories popped up during defrag cycle.

To see them, Vortex had to reach a little deeper though. He’d done it before, and he always had an excuse ready in case Blast Off woke up from the prodding. He’d just say he’d want another frag, and Vortex was pretty sure Blast Off wouldn’t question that.

Fortunately, till now Blast Off had never woken up. If the shuttle was in recharge, he definitely _was_ in recharge; Brawl could tell you a thing or two about it.

Vortex’ presence invaded the shuttle’s, and vice versa as the gestalt coding assisted in an even deeper synchronisation. They couldn’t access each others' sensor nets without permission, but Vortex could get some sort of status report from a team mate in defrag like this.

Blast Off was seeing stars again. It was space, like so often. But considering just how much of his life the other had spent out there, Vortex shouldn’t have been surprised.

There was a planet glowing, and two stars. Vortex could even feel the slight radiation that came with the memory, but he had to focus on the connection so as not to lose his grip on it. The image flickered, mixing with another, and finally fading to the new file when the defrag system went further. The new place wasn’t much different. Another star, another planet, it just seemed odd – and it wasn’t Vortex’ sentiment.

Uncertainty mixed with reluctance, and now this was interesting. Vortex kept looking, but he didn’t see anything special.

And then he didn’t see _anything_ any more.

It couldn’t be a glitch, because the memory was still running.

Dread filled every inch of Vortex’ frame, and then someone screamed. It couldn’t have been Blast Off, because he was paralysed just like Vortex. A scream so loud, its insanity so clear, it was maddening, like swapping over, infecting the ones that heard it.

Vortex tensed, and he wanted to see what happened. He wanted to know, but it was like his optics didn’t work any more. As though they weren’t even there. Like in the Detention Centre. Only it wasn’t, because this was something Blast Off had _seen_.

He was completely alone now.

The memory of dread, loneliness and fear had a strong hold on Vortex, it was hard to break free.

When he did, he sat up.

“Hnnng!” he groaned as he reached to his optics. They were still there, and they weren’t malfunctioning. He could see his legs.

His rotor blades were rigid, his hand clenched to a fist.

Blast Off stirred. Purple optics flickered, and confusion was obvious through the connection.

The shuttle looked at Vortex, with a blank expression with only a hint of drowsiness.

“What was that?” Vortex couldn’t resist asking.

“Huh?” Hearing Blast Off make such a noise was odd, but Vortex wasn't in the mood to dwell on that.

The shuttle shrugged. “Just a memory…” he muttered, and rolled on his back. Optics switched offline again, and he was back into recharge within astroseconds.

Vortex stared. The dread was still there. It was his own now, and he pondered on disconnecting.

But he'd be alone then, had only the gestalt bond that was closed at the other four sides, and so he just lay down again.

Vortex shifted a little, and shuffled closer. Putting his head on Blast Off's shoulder, an arm on the purple chest, he tried to get of that odd sensation.

His optical sensors roved around the room. It was only dark.

He sighed once, and reached behind him, taking Blast Off’s arm to wrap it around his waist again.

Vortex didn’t prod deeper this time. He’d only experienced a damped memory file, he didn’t want to know how it’d been for Blast Off back then.

Vortex needed almost four beems to shake off the wrongness.


	2. Brawl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Title:** Adventures with a sleeping Blast Off 2  
>  **Continuity:** G1 (part of Ultharkitty’s [Dysfunction AU](http://community.livejournal.com/lost_carcosa/19574.html#cutid1))  
>  **Warnings:** Combati-fluff, bromance  
>  **Characters:** Brawl, Blast Off  
>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Summary:** Blast Off has a good sound sleep which leads to some memorable moments in one way or the other. This time, it’s Brawl’s turn.  
>  **Disclaimer:** Sadly, I own nothing.  
>  **Beta:** Ultharkitty, thank you! :D
> 
>  **Note:** This will be a series of flashfic/drabbles whenever I get an idea. I hope you’ll enjoy it. :)

Brawl had three breems and the override key - he already knew he was gonna be late!

He wasted the first klik in a detour to his quarters to pick up an energon cube and some equipment, then he sprinted off again.

Brawl was in such a hurry, he almost mistyped the code.

When the door slid open, it revealed a dark room. With no hesitation, the tank activated the lamps, only to see Blast Off lying on the berth.

“Oh frag,” Brawl cursed his life. The shuttle lay on his front, unconscious, with one arm dangling.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Brawl bit his lip. Blast Off had already moved while recharging that meant he’d probably be even harder to wake.

Why was it always _him_ who Onslaught sent to wake up the shuttle? Brawl sometimes had the feeling it was some sort of punishment, because most of the time he was sent when Blast Off had come back from space only a few joors ago.

And while it was never easy to keep the shuttle from recharge once he’d been deep in his defrag cycle, it was almost impossible after an off-world trip.

Carefully, because one could never know how an unconscious Blast Off would react to proximity, Brawl stepped closer. The optics behind the parted visor were offline, and the ventilation worked in slow, low vents.

It would be a waste of time to yell at the mech, or try to shake him awake. Brawl had been there often enough to know that this only resulted in a punch in the face. One that the shuttle wouldn’t even remember, so if you paid him back in return later, Blast Off would only be extraordinarily fragged off.

Prepared and knowledgeable about Blast Off’s sleeping habits as he was, Brawl put down _the device_ at the far end of the room, and set the timer.

Moving quickly away, Brawl took out the tickling rod, and waited.

It took only a few astroseconds, then the device went off.

An annoying ringing sound, grating in its volume and tune, echoed through the room. It was a sound that travelled deep into one's circuit boards, and was almost painful.

Blast Off twitched at that. A good sign, and so Brawl fished with his tickling rod for the shuttle’s feet.

A tiny spark emerged from the tip; ailerons clicked.

The tank repeated his action a few times, and eventually, the shuttle engine growled.

“Hrmmm…” A discontented mutter of a hoarse vocaliser from Blast Off. The hand on the floor raised, and punched down on his berthside locker.

Brawl grinned. He’d once put the device on there, and Blast Off had smashed it. But the tank had learned from his mistake. 

“Hmmm?” Blast Off’s hand punch-searched a few more times on the locker, but the sound didn’t stop.

The large engine revved once more, and shortly after the purple optics flickered online. It was a dim light, almost too dark to see in the light of the ceiling lamp, but Brawl spotted it anyway.

Another surge of triumph made the tank grin. At least the shuttle wasn’t in deep recharge anymore.

“Wasngmm.” It was another mutter, and Brawl had no idea what it could mean.

The punching on the locker stopped, and morphed into a coordinated groping, as though searching for something. Brawl frowned, but kept up his tickling.

Blast Off’s foot moved a little, and slowly the shuttle opened a drawer. There was more groping, until Blast Off vented, and emitted a sound that was a mixture of a grunt and a huff. 

Brawl froze when he saw what the shuttle had been searching for.

A gun in the unsteady hand pointed vaguely at the alarm device while a dim visor flickered.

It took Blast Off four shots to silence the irritating sound, and it left the device a smoking heap of parts.

“Oh, c’mon, that’s unfair!” Brawl said loudly as he stepped forward and swiftly took the gun from the sleep-mad shuttle.

It earned him another grunt, and Blast Off hid his face into the berth. “Lemme alone, fraggit.”

He sounded drunk, like he always did shortly after having been forcefully woken up. Brawl sighed.

“You know I won’t leave you alone. There’s a mission briefing in- oh, 0.86 breems.”

“I just came from a mission…” The blank, but drowsy voice was muffled. “Tell Ons I ain’t comin’.”

Getting tired himself, the tank rubbed over his visor and battle mask. His tone was almost pleading when he spoke again. “C’mon. Ons will kill me for that, and then he’ll be fragged at you, too. You can’t do that too me. I brought you energon?”

Blast Off’s relaxed fingers twitched once on the berth , but aside from that, there was no other hint of movement.

Brawl sighed again. Perhaps he should turn the shuttle’s control console on and switch to human TV. It was noisy and stupid in Blast Off’s opinion, and certainly would get his attention. But then, who knew if Blast Off might shot the console, too. He still had his leg cannons. Then Brawl would get in trouble for this as well.

Pondering on his options, the tank missed Blast Off’s fingers twitching again, and ailerons shifting. Only when the large shuttle vents sighed in a prolonged sound of displeasure did Brawl glance back.

It looked like an extreme effort when Blast Off eventually sat up. One foot at the ground, the other leg still bent and on the berth, the shuttle rested his head in his hands, stature slumped in fatigue.

Brawl felt sorry for him. In this state, Blast Off was no good for a mission briefing, let alone another mission, and the tank wondered if he’d done something to frag Onslaught off.

“Here, your ration.” Brawl held out the half full energon cube to Blast Off. He took it with a nod.

Two kliks passed in which Blast Off drank slowly, and Brawl let him.

It took some more time before Blast Off stood up, slowly, appearing as though his equilibrium chip was malfunctioning.

“Hey, who knows, maybe you can go back to recharge after the briefing?” Brawl tried to cheer the other up, and the shuttle merely shrugged. “Don’t be so grumpy,” Brawl added, but couldn’t be truly angry. He knew Blast Off, and considering that waking him up this time had taken only just over three breems should be seen as success.

“I’m not grumpy,” Blast Off muttered as they walked next to each other along the corridor.

“Heh, yeah, I know. You’re _only_ tired. And you suck at shooting when you're tired.”

Blast Off huffed. “I don’t _suck_ at shooting. Stop using these human idioms. I was half blind and my scanners were offline.”

Brawl laughed loudly, causing the shuttle to flinch. “Excuses, excuses.”

Another huff from shuttle vents with a hint of amusement; Brawl ducked away from a light punch to the back of his head, knowing Blast Off had missed on purpose.


	3. Swindle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Title:** Adventures with a sleeping Blast Off 3  
>  **Warnings:** fluff, comedy  
>  **Continuity:** G1 [part of ultharkitty’s [Dysfunction AU](http://community.livejournal.com/lost_carcosa/19574.html#cutid1)]  
>  **Characters:** Swindle, Blast Off, Brawl  
>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Disclaimer:** Sadly, nothing is mine.  
>  **Summary:** Blast Off has a good sound sleep which leads to some memorable moments in one way or the other. This time, it’s Swindle’s turn.  
>  **Beta:** ultharkitty

Waking up Blast Off was one of the least favourite tasks of any Combaticon – minus Vortex.

The shuttle was just so hard to wake, let alone to keep awake once he uttered a grumble or moved. Sometimes he slapped people, or kicked out, and he wasn’t even to blame. It was just his sleeping habit.

After Brawl’s helm had been accidentally dented by the shuttle while booting up, it was now Swindle’s turn to try his luck.

At least he knew Vortex wouldn’t be in there, because the ‘copter was on monitor duty. Served the fragger right. He could rust in boredom in the room and die of slow-processor-clocking.

Swindle’s intakes vented a huff, and he entered the security code for the base that he’d got from Onslaught. Their commander would probably change it as soon Blast Off was in his office, so Swindle didn’t bother to save it to his long-term memory banks.

Blast Off’s room was dark. The shuttle lay on the berth, one leg bent, and one arm raised weirdly and resting against the wall. Maybe he’d already tried to punch something. Who knew what was going on in Blast Off’s head – other than some dry, scientific nonsense.

Stepping closer, Swindle remembered Brawl’s warning not to get too close. He looked around, and took a datapad from the desk. It was offline.

Swindle didn’t care what was on it. He threw it at the shuttle, hitting his upper arm.

Nothing happened.

“Hm,” Swindle huffed to himself, and took all the other datapads. One by one, he threw them at Blast Off, and finally earnt a reaction.

The shuttle grumbled something unintelligible, waved a hand before he wiped some of the datapads off him, and rolled over. Unfortunately, he rolled to the wrong side, and was now facing the wall.

Swindle clenched his hand to a fist; the other still held a pad.

What the frag was wrong with this shuttle? Any other mech would have been awake by now. Maybe also in a bad mood, but that didn’t really matter with Blast Off, since he was like never in a good mood.

“Fine, aft-head,” Swindle muttered, and went to the berth. “If you hit me, it’s your damned fault. Or better Onslaught’s fault, because he sent me here. Stupid Commander.”

Trying to touch Blast Off’s shoulder, Swindle climbed on the berth. He was too small, and Blast Off lay too close to the wall to reach him otherwise. It was annoying. Thankfully no one saw him there kneeling next to the unconscious shuttle and trying to wake him up.

The first shake of the other’s frame did nothing. There wasn’t a twitch when Swindle touched Blast Off, not even a disapproving mumble.

Vector Sigma, how could someone sleep that soundly?

“Oh, come. On. Are you fraggin’ serious?” Swindle cursed, and shook the other mech harder, even punching the shuttle’s upper arm to get some sort of sign he might wake up.

And Swindle did gain that sign.

Blast Off’s hand raised and caught Swindle’s wrist. It made the jeep freeze, and that was his big mistake.

Before he could fight back, Blast Off turned, forcing Swindle down, and rolled half on him. The masked face was hidden between Swindle’s shoulder and head, an arm draped over the jeep’s waist while his own was buried under the shuttle. 

Blast Off muttered something; his battle mask moved, but Swindle couldn’t understand it. The other’s shoulder was on Swindle’s chest, blocking some of the view, and he could hardly turn his head while the large shuttle side vents blew warm air over his frame.

Stunned, Swindle wasn’t able to move, and not just because of the weight. If Swindle could trust his senses and knowing people only a little, then he’d think the shuttle pressed him closer. The black hand was on his hip, resting there as though to keep him in place with only the slightest pressure.

“Uh,” he uttered. “Blast Off?”

There was no answer.

Swindle sighed, and his head dropped back.

Great. With this bulk of metal on him, there was no way he’d be able to get up, least of all to wake the other. His arm already began to get numb, and his joints where Blast Off lay hurt. A warning appeared in Swindle’s HUD, but he shut it down. He knew why his systems protested.

He started a half-hearted attempt to shove Blast Off away. He pushed the other’s shoulder, trying to lift the shuttle just enough to be able to slide off the berth.

It was useless. Just as useless as it had been before trying to wake Blast Off up.

Punching Blast Off’s upper arm once, Swindle then put his hand on it. The metal was solid, thick plating that didn’t bulge or moved. Even the paint seemed unreally tough, and there was no scratch from having been hit.

Swindle had to admit that it was impressive in a way. And that it wasn’t too bad to be trapped like that. It was probably the first time he'd been this close to Blast Off. That he could feel and read some the other’s energy field which was hard to decipher right then. He still had to be deep in recharge, because it fluctuated unsteadily with the weirdest sensations and emotions. If you could call it emotion, considering it was Blast Off.

“And now what?” Swindle mumbled, his trapped arm completely numb by now. His free hand stroked Blast Off’s shoulder absent-mindedly, and the exhaustion in Blast Off’s energy signature was contagious.

//Hey Swin!//

It was Brawl’s voice over comm-link that startled him, and he’d have probably sat up in surprise if he hadn’t been pinned down.

Brawl continued before Swindle could reply. //How far are you with waking up Blasty?//

Swindle shifted as much as it was possible. //Uh, well, that…// He turned his head a little, staring at Blast Off’s audial.

//I take it he’s still in recharge?//

//Yes, he is.// Swindle felt like a failure.

//Heh, awesome. Ons cancelled the meeting. It’s tomorrow, because Screamer wants to come too. No idea what’s he up to. Anyway, means you can stop poking the dead shuttle.//

Swindle tensed. It was great news, but he still had a problem. //Uh, okay. Nice…//

Brawl’s frown was audible over the comm. //But? I know you. You have a ‘but’ there. What’s wrong? Thrusters hit you or something and you’re stuck in the wall?//

//Not quite that.// Sighing, Swindle heaved air through his side vents. //I’m stuck beneath Blast Off.//

The tank’s laugh was so loud, Swindle thought Blast Off would wake up from it. Too bad the shuttle didn’t.

Swindle had to ask Brawl to come and get him. He was thankful that Onslaught didn’t seem to have changed the security code yet, and Brawl could get into the shuttle’s room. The barrel on Brawl’s back trembled, and his shoulders twitched in what was probably suppressed laughter.

Swindle couldn’t see what Brawl did. But the hand on the jeep’s hip twitched. Shuttle intakes stuttered, and the strong engine revved. It sent vibrations through Swindle, and made him shiver.

Eventually, Blast Off raised his head, and kicked out his leg.

“Frag…” he muttered, and Swindle didn’t know if he should be relieved that he would soon be free, or scared of Blast Off’s reaction once the shuttle found out that he’d hugged him in his sleep.

Blast Off didn’t appear as though he noticed Swindle when he rolled over, and raised himself up a little, a dim visor looking at the tank. “What’s up, just lemme recharge.” His speech slurred as though he was drunk.

Swindle used that moment to shuffle off the berth. He landed on the floor with a clang, but the shuttle didn’t comment on it, and Brawl was distracted answering, “Nothing, really. How are you?”

There was definitely a grin behind Brawl’s battle mask, but Swindle didn’t care. He sat up, and looked back on the berth, seeing Blast Off rolling back to face the wall.

“Tired. Don’t wake me up if it’s nothing,” he murmured, the intakes vented loudly once, and then set to a slow steady pace. 

The tension eased from Swindle’s joints – at least from the ones he felt. His arm was still numb, and the side and leg Blast Off had lain on hurt. He looked at Brawl, silently asking for help.

//That bad?// Brawl wanted to know, and Swindle answered with a one-sided shrug.

//Blast Off is damned heavy…//

//Hehe, you owe me for that,// the tank giggled, and leant down to help Swindle up. Together, they left the shuttle’s room. //So, you gonna tell Thrusters that he hugged you?//

Swindle flared his field, putting his displeasure into his signature. He didn’t find it funny. //I’m not suicidal.//

Brawl laughed again loudly. It echoed in the hallway. He didn’t answer over comm any more. “Right, you’re not Vortex!”


End file.
